Compass
by Idan
Summary: Tag to Red Sails at Sunset, because it felt like it ended mid-scene. There had to be more to that conversation.


**Title**: Compass

**Disclaimer**: I don't own these characters, or things would be going very differently!

**Summary**: Tag to Red Sails at Sunset, because it felt like it ended mid-scene. There had to be more to that conversation.

**Author's Note:** I'm still working on In the Cards but had to get this out of my head first! And since it's Thanksgiving here in the U.S., let me say how thankful I am for all of you readers and reviewers out there. Especially those of you posting today so I know I'm in good company and not doing something weird. :)

"He's someone I know."

He looked like he'd just opened the best Christmas present ever, not an expression that was familiar to her. In fact, between his expression, the neck brace, and his battered face, he looked like a stranger in the dim light. It was weirdly disorienting and more than a little disturbing.

God, she could see the next few weeks unfolding like a horror movie, or maybe a very bad comedy. Jane would embark on a crazy mission to test every man he knew against the criteria Lorelei had given him. Like she was a reliable source. Lisbon hoped desperately that he'd at least exempt Cho and Rigsby. And that he wouldn't infuriate Bertram to the point of getting fired, though at this point that might actually come as a relief.

He'd crashed a car into a tree, for crying out loud. After making it seem he'd been kidnapped by a fugitive. She'd be angry about that if she'd believed it for a second, but for once, she hadn't been even a little fooled. She didn't think the others had been either, but they knew by now it was better if they pretended to believe the cover story and didn't ask questions whose answers would only make them accessories after the fact.

"Doesn't it bother you?" she asked softly.

He blinked and refocused on her, leaving behind whatever train of thought he'd embarked on. "That he's been right under my nose for years? Yes, of course it does."

"No. That you share personality traits with a serial killer."

He frowned in annoyance. "We have some critical differences. I don't go around killing people for some kind of twisted pseudo-spiritual purpose."

"No," she agreed. "You've had good reason to kill the people you've killed. At least in your own mind."

Now he was angry, but at least he looked more like the Jane she knew. "You're standing here because I killed Tanner," he growled.

"Yes. And I believe I've paid back that debt a couple of times over by now." She folded her arms. She hated to upset him when he was hurt, but if she didn't make her point now, she might never get another chance. At least he couldn't get up and run away. "You've stared into the abyss a long time, Jane. It's changed you. And not for the better."

"You've always known that catching Red John is the most important thing to me."

"Yes, but I used to believe there were things you wouldn't do, lines you wouldn't cross. Things you wouldn't sacrifice. Now I'm not so sure."

"Lisbon, I've done everything I can to keep you out of this, to protect you and the others," he retorted. "Don't you dare tell me what I'm willing to sacrifice."

"I know what. Do you?" she challenged him. "It's one thing to be willing to lose your life. It's another thing to willingly lose your soul."

"You know I don't believe-"

"I don't mean in a religious sense," she cut him off. Though she was increasingly concerned about that, she would deal with it in her prayers, where at least she could believe she'd be heard. "You are giving up everything that's good in you. What do you think is going to be left? Did you ever think that's how Red John got the way he is?"

"If that's what it takes to finish him, I don't care." His expression remained set in stone.

"You can't fight evil by becoming more of it."

"Spare me the platitudes, Lisbon," he snapped. "You're the least evil person I know, and I don't see you slapping handcuffs on him."

"And the way you're going, you probably won't live to. What do you think Red John would have done if you'd gotten yourself killed in the crash? He'd be so bored without you. He'd have to find someone else to mess with. Who else could possibly play your games with him? Why, maybe the people who've been helping you all these years. Maybe he'd come pay us a visit after the funeral."

"Maybe," he said grudgingly. "And maybe you'd catch him. You'd be on the lookout, after all. He probably would come to the funeral."

Lisbon made a mental note to talk to Cho about that. She was pretty sure she would be useless at Jane's funeral. "And maybe he'd catch us."

"You, you mean. Stop talking around the point, Lisbon. If you want to read me the riot act about running off again, go ahead. But at least I called you this time."

"And I'm supposed to be grateful for that? You lied through your teeth, and God help me, I covered for you. I'm pretty sure lying to Homeland Security is not going to be an asset in my future."

Jane made a harrumphing sound. "I'm sure your new best friend will let it slide if you bat your eyelashes and smile at him some more."

"While you're making snarky remarks about my new best friend," she shot back, "you might want to ask yourself how that position became vacant in the first place."

"Oh, very good, Lisbon. Aim right for my weak spot and punch hard enough to cover the fact that you're lying."

Goddamn him, he actually sounded cheery now. How had he gotten reassurance out of what she'd just said?

"If I were you," Jane remarked breezily, "I'd examine the pattern there. A DHS agent is unlikely to be an open book. Could it be that you're attracted to liars?"

"God, Jane, if I could find an uninjured spot to punch you, I would," she seethed.

"You can have a rain check," he said.

Lisbon tried to tamp down her frustration. Obviously he wasn't going to listen to what she was trying to tell him. She started for the door, but Jane reached out and grabbed her arm.

"Hey," he said, in that quiet tone that meant he was about to say something important. "You don't need to worry so much, Lisbon. I know I'm not turning into a monster. Not yet, anyway."

"How do you know?" She swallowed against the lump in her throat, turning her head to look at him.

"Because you're still here." He slid his hand down her arm to clasp her hand, just like he'd done in Vegas. "And you wouldn't defend a monster. I never had much of a moral compass, but yours is true. As long as I have that, I can't wander too far off course."

Lisbon tried not to show how touched she was. And she also wondered if maybe her moral compass was a little unreliable these days. She wouldn't be the first woman to find herself pulled astray by a magnetic man.

Jane added, "And that's another difference between me and him, Lisbon. Lorelei is his weak point, because when she finds out he killed her sister, she'll turn on him. But you know all the bad things I've done. There's nothing he could use to turn you against me."

"No, Jane," she said softly. "Only you could ever do that."

"Not your new best friend?"

She pulled her hand free. "Stop calling him that. I need him to help me nail Volker. Don't tell me you don't know that."

"I'm just a little insulted that you think my help isn't enough. Since when do you need outside help?" He seemed puzzled.

"Since you decided to stop doing your actual job. And now that you have a shiny new clue, I don't see that changing anytime soon," she said, hoping she sounded more frustrated than sad.

"Just be careful, Lisbon," he warned.

"That's rich, coming from you. Jane, when he asked me if you had anything to do with Lorelei's escape, I told him you would never do something like that. Does it sound like I trust him?"

A smile tugged at his mouth. "It's a good thing he doesn't know me very well. Would you call him arrogant and manipulative?"

"No, Jane, I would not. And if you manage to find a way to beak into the psych eval files in Personnel, you better not read mine."

"Why would I waste time doing that? There's nothing there I don't already know." He seemed surprised at the idea.

She sighed. He was probably right. "Good night, Jane." She laid her hand on his head—the only uninjured part of him she could reach—and headed for the door.

"Aren't you going to nag me to get out of here and go sleep in a bed for once?" He called after her.

"I'm trying to reduce the futility in my life, so no," she called back. But as she went down the stairs, she hoped he would get some rest. She had the sinking feeling they were in for a rough time. She could only hope they'd have something to show for it in the end.

And that when it was over, she'd still have him around to argue with.


End file.
